


missing you

by hawkqirl



Category: Stranger Things - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Long Distance Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 01:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12570640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkqirl/pseuds/hawkqirl
Summary: You go through a trip down memory lane while reminiscing on how you and Steve became a couple during senior year of high school.





	missing you

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this was a prompt fill from my tumblr, with the prompt: "Here's a hint: I'm not telling you" or "Alright im gonna go cry", and i decided to use them both! i hope you enjoy ♥

_Winter time._  Winter brought three–no, _four_  good things: holiday season, new years celebration, cold weather, and, of course, your and Steve’s anniversary.

It had only been a year (god, it felt so much longer), since the two of you had begun as an _actual_  thing; since you had become a real couple. The start had been…confusing at first, but after the first date, things had gone smoothly for you both.

As you baked his favorite type of cake from scratch, stirring the mix together as you dropped blue  and red food coloring into the bowl, you reminisced on how you’d both gotten to the point that you were at, now–with him driving down from his university an hour away to visit you.

You had met in science class, grouped together in a lab assignment with two other people: a stoner who clearly wasn’t interested in doing anything, and a quiet, shy girl who wasn’t _going_  to do anything. _He_ had been working on his personal essay for university all throughout class, leaving you to be the leader of the group. 

“Okay, then,” you said aloud after five minutes of silence, the stoner staring out into space, the quiet girl looking down at the table, and Steve, who everyone and their mother knew, nearly banging his head against the table in frustration as he tried to string sentences together to make them _somewhat_  coherent. “I’m Y/N,” you offered, attempting to start conversation among them. The silence stretched on as no one else said anything. “Alright.”  


“What’s another word for ‘being a winner’?” Steve had interjected, not looking up from his paper.  


“Uh…successful?” you offered, and he mumbled out a quick thanks before returning to his writing. “No problem,” you sighed, knowing that this class would undoubtedly be total and utter _crap_  because of the group you were now forced to work with every time there’s a lab. _Dandy_.  


“We’re uh, introducing each other, right?” Steve said, glancing up from his writing quickly, “I’m Steve.”  


_That’s practically a given,_ you thought to yourself silently, but noticed as the quiet girl began to speak. “I’m Amy,” she said softly, her voice sounding unsteady, as though she were underwater.

“Todd,” the stoner said, waving a hand, as though they all couldn’t quite see him. “Fair warning, but lunch is right before this class and lunch time is _break_ time, so I’ll probably be a crap partner _anyway_ –”  


“Well, we’re stuck together,” Steve had huffed, “So try to…skip a day or two when we have labs, okay? Don’t think it’d be smart to lose a limb over getting high.”  


Todd’s eyes widened, “We can lose a limb in here?!”

Steve gave him a shrug, “I mean, _anything_ can happen when you’re high and working with chemicals. Could even go blind.”

“Oh _maaan_ , really?” Todd asked, collapsing in his seat. 

Steve nodded as though this was a one hundred percent proven fact, “Absolutely,” he said, looking to you and winking.   


_Winking?_

You couldn’t have been sure that it had even happened until it had, but you decided not to question it. Either way, he had helped you. Even though it was in a small way, it had worked.

* * *

You’d interacted throughout the month of September and October every so often that senior year in class and during labs, but you didn’t really _know him_ , know him. You _did_  know that he was better at science than he was at writing, and he was actually really _nice_ , something that you hadn’t been expecting. You didn’t really believe the rumors that the popular jock Steve Harrington had changed from how he was before, but it seemed like they were true. He had changed, and you supposed that there was Nancy to thank for that.

Nancy Wheeler was a good girl. Nice, sweet–didn’t really talk to people outside of her social circle except for Jonathan Byers who, you supposed, she got along well with because her brother was best friends with his brother. He was the only exception.

You’d had a chance to really talk to Steve alone, though, for the first time, at the halloween party. The night had still been going strong, but it had been winding down for you. You’d gone out to the backyard to get a breath of fresh air, away from the smell of sweat and teenage boys and the faint smell of vomit, and were quickly met by noneother than–

“Steve,” you’d said softly, noticing that he was seated against the side of the house, his gaze watching the blue of the pool behind the fence. “What are you doing out here?” you asked curiously.  


“Oh,” he said, “Y/N. Didn’t think a party like this was your kind of scene.”  


“Yeah, well…” you sighed, sitting down next to him, crossing your legs. “It’s not. But I figured hey, it’s senior year. Might as well do one of the stereotypical teenage crap adults always say we do.”  


“Yeah? Like what?” he asked curiously, to which you chuckled and shrugged.  


“Like…uh. Get drunk, go to some…party thrown by some rich girl who’s parents are away for the weekend. Dance with some boys. That kinda stuff, I guess,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear.  


“Huh,” he mused quietly before turning to look at you. “And have you done it?”  


You raised an eyebrow, “Wait, what?”

“The list,” he said, “The ‘stereotypical things’.”  


“ _Oh_ ,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed that your mind immediately went to another matter. “uh, can’t say that I’m drunk. Buzzed maybe. The drinks here aren’t that good anyway.”  


“Yup,” Steve agreed, and you glanced back at him.  


“And what about you? Have you done any stereotypical teenage things at this party?” you asked curiously.  


“Well, I, uh–” he laughed, the sound coming out loud and harsh, “Can’t say it’s _stereotypical_ , but I got in a fight with my girlfriend and I’m _pretty_  sure she wants us to break up.” He’s quiet for a moment as he realized that the words were out in the air now, and he couldn’t call them back. “So there’s that.”  


“Shit,” you huffed, shifting in your seated spot. “Sorry, Steve.”  


“Nah,” he waved it off. “Nothing anyone can do ‘bout it. Been a long time coming, I think.”   


You didn’t say anything, feeling as though it wasn’t your place to speak. He seemed to want to vent, in any case.

“She said she didn’t love me,” he continued, “That whatever we have– _had?_ –is bullshit.”  


_Yikes._

_“_ Jesus,” you sighed. “That sucks.”  


“Yeah,” he stated, “Yeah. It sucks.” He went silent for a moment and said in a deadpan tone, “I think I’m drunk.”

You laughed at that, “Yeah, I think so, too.”

He laughed along with you, almost self deprecatingly, you think, and he says, “My girlfriend probably wants to break up and here I am, drunk and laughing about it. That seems fucked up to me, is it fucked up to you?”

“ _Just_  a bit,” you tell him, a wide smile on your face. “Just a lil.”  


* * *

“Christ, what happened to your face?” you questioned a few days later when you had a lab together. He had bruises just about _everywhere_ , and you’re pretty sure that he has two black eyes.  


“An asshole happened,” he huffed, almost collapsing into his chair across from you as the other students came into class.   


“Yeah, well,” you said, your tone deadpan, “You look like shit.”  


“Oh, well thanks,” Steve said sarcastically.   


“Hair’s still good, though,” you say to him, slightly perplexed, “Oddly enough.”  


“My hair is _always_  good,” he told you, clearly flaunting it as he ran a hand through it, causing for you to laugh ever so slightly, shaking your head with incredulity.  


“You’re an idiot, Steve.”  


* * *

He had asked you out on a not-date during the thanksgiving break, inviting you out to an ice skating rink. 

“Is this supposed to be a date?” you teased him, knowing that the moment you got him to think that this was explicitly _not_  a date would mean that you’d be able to keep your feelings for him under wraps. If _he_  didn’t think this was a date, then you could think it wasn’t a date. Dating was complicated, and you didn’t want to make things complicated. You wanted to keep things simple, especially since he and Nancy had just broken up after nearly a year together. It’d only been a few weeks since then, and you figured that he needed longer in order to not make you seem as though you were “the rebound”.  


If he was even interested in you in that way, that is.

“Pfft, no,” Steve replied, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He deadpanned, asking quickly, “Why? Do you want it to be? Is that what you want–”  


“I’ll go to the rink with you,” you tell him before he can finish his questions, not wanting to complicate things. “You’re paying, right?”  


“Yeah,” he answered, and you nodded.   


“Cool!” you said, “So it’s a not-date.”  


“It’s a not-date.”  


Later, it turned out, that the “not-date” quickly turned into just a regular date – although neither of you had noticed it. You had had to hold his hand (clinging onto him totally in the beginning, but moving down to just his hand) in order to keep yourself from falling onto the cold ice (which you had already managed to do before an abundance of times; dragging him down with you every time). At some point, the songs that they were playing became more calm, more soothing, and before you knew it, they were playing _specifically_  songs for couples.

Neither of you had noticed that everyone around you was a couple until you’d pointed it out, finding it odd that everyone had seemed to be in pairs–

And just like that, you fell yet _again_ , this time with Steve landing on the ice before you, and you going down right after him. He attempted to reach out to catch you, which resulted in you collapsing onto his chest, the wind knocked out of both of your bodies as he winced.

“I am _so_ sorry!” you said flusteredly, attempting to get up and off of him.  


“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Steve said as you sat back on your knees, the skate only slightly digging into your back legs.  


“ _Crap_ , I feel so bad,” you said, trying not to blame yourself but _seriously_  failing.   


“Seriously, Y/N,” he said, chuckling as he stood up onto his feet, skates touching the ice once again. “I’m fine.”  


You paused, chewing on your lip slightly. “Thank you,” you said in recognition of his efforts to catch you, which was at an expense to _him._

“No problem,” he said.  


* * *

December rolled around before you knew it, and Steve was up to _something_.

“Alright, what are you planning?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes as you sat with him during lunch at the local fast food restaurant.  


“You’ll see,” he said, not giving away anything as he continued to write in his notebook.  


“ _Ugh_ , can I at least have a hint? Something?” you asked curiously, hating not knowing about something.  


“Okay, okay, **here’s a hint** ,” he said, looking up from his paper to look at you. “ **I’m not telling you.”**  


“ _Steve!”_ you said in a clipped tone, smacking him on the shoulder gently. “You’re being dumb again.”  


“Y/N, you’ll see, okay?” he said, “But I _guess_  I can give you a little hint. I _guess_.”  


“Okay, okay, what is it?” you asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.  


“I’m gonna take my girlfriend out somewhere she’ll like,” Steve said coyly, and you felt your heart drop for some weird reason.  


“Your girlfriend?” you asked, wondering when he and Nancy had gotten back together, and feeling slightly dumb that you hadn’t realized that he was dating someone before. It was dumb, but you had thought that you guys were–  


“Oh, shit,” he muttered, bringing his palm to his forehead. “Crap. Forgot to ask.”  


“Ask what?” you questioned.  


“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”  


* * *

“Okay, okay, wait, wait –” Steve said as he handed the envelope to you as you sat across from one another on his bed. “You read it.”  


“Steve, you’re being a baby,” you teased him, taking the envelope from his hands anyway. “It’ll be _fine_ , alright?”  


“Yeah, but–” his face darkened with worry for a moment, and he forced a nervous laugh out. “ **Alright, I’m gonna go cry.** ”  


“ _Alright, alright,_  don’t be a baby,” you said, practically tearing the envelope open. You pulled out the letter from inside, skimming past the _Dear Steve Harrington_  at the top and searching for the magic words. As you expected, they were there. Just to mess with him, though, you looked back at him, your face falling ever so slightly. “Oh, Steve,” you said softly.   


“What?” he asked nervously. “What’s it say?” He grabbed for the letter, his eyes scanning the paper quickly.

“I’m sorry,” you said slowly, building his anticipation, “That you’ve been accepted to a _nerd_  school!”  


He looked back up at you, his eyes lighting up with happiness. “Holy _fuck_ , Y/N! Don’t scare me like that!”

You laughed, “What? I told you, didn’t I? I knew you would get in!”

“ _Shit_ ,” he muttered, a breathless laugh passing from his lips. He smiled at you, now, wrapping you in a bear hug.   


“You did it!” you say, rubbing his back reassuringly. “I told you so.”  


He sat back away from you for a moment before pressing his lips to yours, his warm, soft lips coming into contact with yours. Still, just like the first time, you get goosebumps as you feel that electric feeling run through your veins yet again.

“I love you,” he laughed in between kisses, “ _So_  fucking much.”  


“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you laughed with him, smiling as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. “I love you, too.”

* * *

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a door close shut behind you just as you pulled the cake out of the oven, your eyes lighting up as you saw who was there.

“ _Steve!”_  


He had rushed to you and you had practically jumped into his widespread arms, him spinning you around as you pressed kisses all across his cheeks.

“ _Ooh_ , I missed you so much,” you said, still holding onto him tightly as he dropped you back down to the floor.  


“I missed you, too,” he said, pulling the two of you apart for a moment so that he can look at you. “I _still_ got the most gorgeous girlfriend in the world. Everyone else is dying of envy.”  


“Shut up,” you laughed, pulling him down by the lapels of his shirt so that you can kiss him, re-familiarizing yourself with the softness of his lips. You _missed_  this. You missed kissing him, hugging him, having him close by. “I love you,” you said softly, looking up into his eyes as you pulled away slightly, for nothing if not to stare at him. It had been so long since you’d seen him – since late September, maybe? At the start of the college semester? But now, now he was _here_ , and you were together again, just like before. Just like always.

“I love you, too,” he said, cupping your face in his hands before pressing another kiss to your lips. He broke away from you for a moment to sniff the air, saying, “You baking?”  


“Uh,” you glanced back to the purple colored cake which sat on the stove, cooling from having just been taken out of the oven, and you said, “Yeah. Didn’t get the chance to frost it, though–”  


“No, no, we can do it together,” he said, narrowing his eyebrows as though it was ludicrous that you would do it alone.  


“Yeah?” you asked, surprised at the offer. “Didn’t know that you liked to help in the kitchen.”  


He shook his head, “Nah. With you, though?” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’d do anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please leave a kudos / comment or leave a message on my tumblr @kendrasauhders :)


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